


Salvation

by luxeluckylay



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Blood, F/M, Michael is obsessed, he just wants all the love he can get, somebody love my little Antichrist please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 11:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16617917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxeluckylay/pseuds/luxeluckylay
Summary: Michael has an obsession with his neighbor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing so I hope you like! I will get better the more I write so please don't write me off yet!

The first time he saw her it was through a window. His chubby hands pressed against the cool glass as he stared. He could feel their divine connection even at a young age.

 

He couldn't have been no older than three.

 

His grandma paid him no mind when he reached for what was beyond the window and prepared him for a nap. 

 

Everyday, he came back to that window. He watched the house across the street from them faithfully. His grandma could barely pull him away to eat. When he aged a decade in one night, she realized that his fascination had progressed to something...darker. 

 

She would find drawings of the girl, Ambrosia, in different places. In one, she was sitting at a table writing something. In another, she was relaxed in a bathtub filled with bubbles that came to her neck. And in the most disturbing, she was naked and seemed to be changing. Constance slowly crept out of Michael's room and laid her forehead against the door.

 

He was staring out of the window again. She was sitting on the porch and this time with a pair of glasses perched on her head. Her brown skin was glimmering in the sunlight and her lips were painted a sultry red. Michael was furiously sketching away in his notepad and Constance knew. She just knew that, Ambrosia, was unknowingly the star of his drawings. 

One day, she's knocking on their door. Constance fears for the young girl. She's so pretty and sweet and gives her the biggest smile when she opened the door. 

 

"Hi, Mrs. Langdon! I hate to bother you but do you know anyone that could cut my grass? I have a lawn mower but-."

 

The sound of breaking glass draws their attention to her grandson standing behind her. His hands are clutching the empty air from the glass that lays broken on the floor. His blue eyes were focused on the girl that stays on his mind almost constantly. 

 

Constance opened her mouth to speak but she couldn't find anything to say. Michael stepped forward, closer to the door, until he was right in front of the short girl. 

 

"H-hi."

 

She gave him a grin and her eyes fluttered back to Constance. She felt intimidated by the young boy's gaze and hoped that the older woman would intervene. 

 

"This is my grandson, Michael. I'm not sure you've met."

 

Michael gave Ambrosia a shy smile, and went to pick up his broken glass. 

 

"I didn't know you had a grandson."

 

"He's very...introverted."

 

Her eyes strayed over to the young boy bent over the broken glass and she looked back up at Constance. 

 

"Do you know anybody?"

 

"My grandson could do it. He needs some'time to talk to someone other than me."

 

Ambrosia's brow furrowed before she nodded. 

 

"I'll pay him and just send him over anytime."

 

She left the Langdon house feeling slightly anxious and highly disturbed. Something about Constance's grandson was unsettling. He stared at her like he knew her.

 

She was in her garage pulling out the lawnmower when she finally realized that he was behind her. His presence was dominating and called for her attention. He stood over her short frame and his eyes followed her every move. He was the predator fully intent on attacking. 

 

"It's already gas in here," is the only thing that she can think to say. Her hands are shaking and she felt out of breath. He had the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She would compare them to ice or ocean water later that night when she thinks about it. 

 

He took the mower from her hands. Eyes never leaving hers for at least thirty seconds. He walked away acting like that never happened and she felt dizzy from the encounter. 

 

The grass was cut and she paid him. Just as fast as he appeared in her life he disappeared. She watched for days for any sign of him but he was just...gone. 

 

One day, she saw him sneaking into murder house and that's when she realized that she hadn't seen Constance either. 

 

It didn't take long for him to send for her. She knew it was coming, but she was still surprised when the Satanist showed up at her door. 

 

She's sitting in front of him, tied up, and covered in some poor girl's blood when he whispers to her...

 

"This is only just the start."

 

The start of a new beginning for her and him. For once, he could feel their bond. It was like electricity in his veins .Strong and steady, as he cuts into her wrists and bound their souls together. 


	2. Warlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael drags Ambrosia with him everywhere and she ends up saving his life a few times

If you had told her that she would be kidnapped by Satanists and the Antichrist, she would have laughed. 

Until that became her very fate. 

The binding spell had worked and now she shared everything with Michael. His very thoughts, his memories, and his future? The future visions were still very blurry, but she knew that he brought destruction to the world. She would stop it somehow. 

She just didn't know where to start. 

The poor boy didn't even realize that they were using him to push their agenda. They thought that Satan wanted destruction, but did they know? Did they really 100% know? No. These were all just assumptions that they had. 

They didn't care about Michael (neither did she ((yes she does but she hates to admit it))), they cared about him being the antichrist. Their only link to Satan and the way the could end the world. 

"You could at least talk to me." 

"Talk to you about what? How you and your followers kidnapped me? Or how about the fact that you're dragging me around everywhere? Or maybe it's the fact that I'm stuck in this dark place 24/7 and the other warlocks stare at me like I'm a piece of meat!"

"They won't hurt you."

The edge in his voice scared her and she sat down at the tiny desk in the corner of the room. The drawings that he had of her was the first thing she saw. Her eyes clenched shut, but she didn't say anything. He could draw her all he wanted. As long as he had this interest in her, she wouldn't die. Not yet.

"You can't guarantee that, Michael. You left me alone last night to meet with Mead and that other warlocks. This place scares me."

And it did scare her. It wasn't any natural light that came from the sun. Candles flickered in every corner and the fragrance gave her a headache. 

"Ambrosia, this is only temporary. You know that."

His lips brushed against her forehead and she tried her hardest not to tense. Flashes of memories, or maybe visions, filled her mind. She could almost taste the toxic air. Debris, death, and destruction was all around. Because of Michael. Because of the man standing beside her. She clutched his shoulders as her knees buckled under her. 

The last vision she had was when she was with Mead at her house. Mead and Michael were at the store together. The butcher said some rude things to her. Knives started flying and blood splattered across the room. The last flash was of Michael in a jail cell. 

She had managed to talk them out of going to the store and had went herself. The butcher was pleasant when she walked in and as she left. Michael was safe for the time being and she felt like she could breathe.

"You're so pretty, Ambrosia."

She jumped in his arms when she came back. The vision weighed heavily on her mind the rest of the night. 

She climbed into his arms that night and breathed in his musky scent. She's spiraling and before she knows it, she's standing in an empty lot. 

Mead, and the two warlocks are being burned. The smell of burning flesh makes her sick to the stomach. The witches watch the disgusting scene with smug looks besides one. One tells her she doesn't have to watch. 

 With she's back in her body, she's a wheezing mess. Michael is sitting her beside her. His hair was a mess, eyes bleary, and concern was written all over his face.

"Michael!" His name comes out as a gasp and she scratched at his chest. 

"They're gonna burn Miss Mead!"

"Who?"

"The witches!"

They pack all of their things in the middle of the night. She's tired and drained. The vision took all of her energy. Michael's holding her in the back seat of Miss Mead's car as the abandon the warlocks and whatever plan Michael had in mind. He kissed her forehead and tells her that she did good. 

Later that week, her and Michael watch from the shadows as the two warlocks are burned. She's holding his hand when he decided that he no longer wanted to cause the apocalypse. They start a new life together one that doesn't involve killing everyone on the planet.

It's a sunny day in LA, and they're standing in front of the house he was born in. This...he needed this for this mess to be over and done with for good. 

The house just feels evil and dominating as it looks over them. She squeezed his hand and together they walked in to close the last chapter of their lives. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like it! I plan on doing two more parts. Go easy on me please about the punctuation I wanted to post it before I lost the nerve lol thank!


End file.
